As someone raised to believe that life is a race,
That if I ever supposed to have a place,
As member in society with a respectable face,
It is not my dreams I should chase,
But the studies and the marks,
As I struggled and suffered, blaming myself merciless,
I thought of myself as a bad apple and a bad influence,
Not being able to have a noble profession as goal,
Or any profession as there is no salvation for this fool,
I came out of my factory as a product,
But the race was intact,
Along with stakes raised,
I fell into darkest pit, with no end,
I continued falling and cursing my luck,
Then I felt I had enough of the darkness,
I thought for a moment to not be hard on myself,
As I am only falling, it made sense to believe one time,
Then, I fell in love again with learning,
This time, the process was surprisingly interesting,
That is when I realized,
It is not about being in race or the stakes raised,
You feel most alive when you do things,
Which make your heart race.